Danielle Steel - Accident

He went back to Chloe eventually, and she to Allyson, and Page finally came to Chloe's room at five o'clock, and sat down and chatted with her. Chloe was still in a fair amount of pain, and her extensive casts and pins and contraptions looked pretty miserable, but she was handling it well, and she was happy to be alive. She was very worried about Allie. Trygve had told her pretty honestly that she still might die. She wasn't out of the woods yet. Jamie was there that afternoon too, and asked for news of Allyson as soon as he saw her mother.

“How is she?” Chloe asked the moment Page came into the room.

“The same. How about you? Driving the nurses wild, flirting with the residents, ordering pizzas all night long? The usual stuff?” Page grinned and Chloe laughed at the description.

“That and more,” Trygve teased, and Chloe laughed. She was a real teenager and it did their hearts good to see it.

“Good.” Page only wished that Allyson were doing the same things. But surely so did the Chapmans about Phillip. She could only imagine how they must feel only two weeks after the accident, and her heart ached whenever she thought of them. However awful things were with Allyson, there was still hope. But there was no hope for the Chapmans.

Jamie said that he had seen them a few days before and Mrs. Chapman was still in pretty bad shape. Mr. Chapman had told him he was suing the paper for the article that seemed to blame Phillip. Jamie mentioned too that a reporter had come to see him again, to ask him what it was like to be the only one who'd escaped unscathed. But for the most part, the press interest finally seemed to have faded.

They left Chloe at six o'clock, when the pizza Trygve had ordered for her arrived. Jamie stayed to share it with her, and Trygve drove Page back to his place.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” he asked hopefully.

“I'd love to, but I should probably go home in case Brad shows up. He probably won't, but if he does, Andy will be upset to miss him.” Trygve didn't press, and despite Andy and Bjorn's protests, Page took Andy home, but Brad never came home until the next morning. And then, in spite of all Page's promises to herself, there was the usual explosion.

“What was all that bullshit the other night about wanting to stay here, and not being sure of what you wanted? Who are you kidding with that shit?” She was livid. She was tired of living like this, while he pursued his own life with another woman.

“I'm sorry. I should have called. I don't know what happened … I just didn't.” He did know what had happened, of course, but he couldn't tell Page. He had gone away overnight with Stephanie and there was no way he could call her from their hotel room. Stephanie hadn't left him for a single minute, and she had been furious on Sunday morning when he had insisted on driving back. But not as furious as Page had been when he walked in at noon, having never called her. She and Andy had been just about to leave for the airport. “Look, I'm sorry,” he said helplessly, feeling like a moron. He was ricocheting between two worlds and two women, and not handling either very well.

“Why don't you just ask me if Allie is still alive,” Page said cruelly. It wasn't like her to be so unkind, but she had really had it with him.

“Oh my God … is she? … oh Page …” His eyes filled instantly with tears as Page watched him coldly.

“No, she didn't die. But she could have, and where would I have called you, Brad? As usual, you never even called us.”

“You bitch!” He slammed the door to the bedroom, and Andy started to cry. They were always fighting.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart.” She bent down and held him, and Brad didn't come out of the bedroom again. She didn't pursue him either. They left for the airport, and Andy was very quiet on the way. So was Page, she was thinking of the way Brad had looked when he came home. He looked young, and refreshed, and happy, until he saw her. But it was Andy she was worried about as they drove to the airport. He looked heartbroken as he stared out the window.

Her mother and Alexis were among the first passengers off the plane. Her mother looked trim as usual, with beautifully done white hair, and a navy suit that showed off her slim figure. Alexis looked striking in a pale pink Chanel suit, her blond hair perfectly done, her exquisite artificial features made up like the cover of Vogue. She was carrying a black alligator Hermes bag and matching tote, as she carefully kissed the air near Page's cheek and said a cautious hello to Andy.

“You look wonderful, dear,” her mother said happily, looking past her. “Where's Brad?”

“He's at home. He didn't have time to come, but he said to tell you he was sorry.” She had no idea if he'd even be there when they got back. There was no predicting his appearances these days, and covering that up during her mother's visit wasn't going to be easy. But she didn't want to discuss the demise of her marriage with her, and her mother wouldn't want to hear it.

They waited for their luggage at the baggage claim, and fortunately all of it arrived safely. A porter staggered under the mountain of bags they had brought. Alexis's were all matched Gucci cases.

“How's Allyson?” Alexis asked cautiously on the drive home, and Page started to explain her current status, still deep in her coma. But her mother cut her off almost as soon as she spoke, and told her how divine the weather had been in New York, and how great Alexis's apartment looked these days, since she'd redone it.

“That's nice,” Page said quietly. Nothing had changed. They were the same pair who had come out before. The only mystery was why she always expected two different people. All her life she had expected her mother to be someone else, someone homey and warm, who cared and really listened. And she always hoped that Alexis would turn out to have pigtails and freckles and a heart. But they never changed. Her mother spoke of only pleasant things, and Alexis hardly spoke at all, she was too busy being perfect and looking pretty. Page had always wondered what she and David talked about, if anything. He was a lot older than her sister was, and he was always in surgery …much of it obviously spent on redoing his wife, which seemed to be a full-time occupation for him.

“How has the weather been here?” her mother inquired as they crossed the bridge where Allyson's life had been destroyed. Page couldn't drive across it anymore without feeling nauseous and dizzy.

“The weather?” she said blankly. Who knew? She was in ICU all the time, or fighting with Brad. Who had time to look at the weather? “I think it's been fine. I haven't really noticed.”

“And Andy, how's your arm? What a silly thing to do!” his grandmother cooed, as Andy showed Alexis all the places where people had signed. Bjorn had even drawn a picture of a little dog, Andy always grinned when he said it looked just like Richie Green's hamster. But he loved Bjorn, and he was proud of their budding friendship. He loved telling his friends at school that he had a friend who was eighteen. And of course no one ever believed him.

Page was surprised that Brad was waiting for them at home. And he was very cordial to both Alexis and their mother. He carried in their mountain of bags, and set her mother's up for her in the guest room. Her mother was going to sleep in the large double bed, and normally Alexis would have slept in it with her, but this time she had asked if she could sleep in Allyson's bedroom. Page didn't really want her to, right now it felt like something of a shrine. Nothing had been touched since the night Allyson left to go out to dinner with Chloe.

But Brad said it was fine. And Page forced herself to overcome her reservations. It was foolish for them to sleep in the same bed, when they had another empty bedroom. It just underlined even more starkly the fact that Allyson wasn't there, and it made Page uncomfortable to have someone else in her space, but it couldn't be helped, and she knew she was foolish to resent it.